


That Time of Year....

by Zuperbuu



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Crack Pairings, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 12:23:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zuperbuu/pseuds/Zuperbuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out of boredom I wrote a one-shot about how Knockout forgets its the Stunticon mating season, and ends up interfacing with Starscream and Breakdown in the middle of a corridor. This was a strictly timed one-shot challenge and I only had 2 hours to write it; no more, no less.</p><p>Beware the robot smut!</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Time of Year....

**Author's Note:**

> Being bored is normal, right? It sure as slag is; why else would awesome stuff like bubble wrap exist?   
> Well sometimes, boredom doesn’t produce nice things to pop or explode at your leisure. Boredom can create sick and twisted little things that may make you want to gauge your optics out with a spoon, or pour volcano-hot sauce down your throat…or something just as equally unpleasant, yes?
> 
> I was bored once, very bored…and what did I do to try and quell that boredom? Did I go and do something productive like invent bubble wrap?  
> Fuck no. I wrote something. Something horrible, something foul…something that would make even the sanest of individuals suddenly scream out in horror at the atrocity that is the result of the suppressing of my ‘feels’.  
> So what did I do? What horrific creation did I write to make even myself feel rather sick just rereading it all? Why, I wrote a crack-fic, my dear reader!
> 
> What’s so bad about crack-fics? Why are you complaining? I bet you’re wondering. Well, dear reader, this crack-fic was not just ‘shits and giggles’…it did not consist of well-thought out characters or plot development to grant it the title of a regular piece of fictional writing…it contained no random jokes or anything remotely funny to be officially labelled as a full-on crack-fic either…  
> This, my wonderful reader, is a crack-fic bursting with lusty thoughts and disgusting ‘not safe for work’ scenarios that make even myself feel uncomfortable…having been the one to ‘write it all out’ in one impulsive moment of sporadic boredom.
> 
> So while some creative individuals will draw/paint a masterpiece when they are bored, wowing viewers with their majesty and splendour, I instead chose to vomit sexual fantasies and poor plot development into a crack-fic which, I strictly time-restricted myself into doing, for 2 hours.  
> 2 hours. No more, no less of a brain-farted and keyboard-vomited work of literature for your displeasure.

There were good days, there were bad days…and then there were  _those_ days…or months, to be more specific.  _Wait…no… **seasons.**_ There are seasons you love, season you hate, for many reasons that are highly logical. But then you have those really, really  _fucking annoying_ times of the year where you just want to go and break a few necks. Crack a few skulls…rupture a few servos while you’re at it.  
  
Somewhere along the long and tedious line of Cybertronian evolution came a period of each Cybertronians lifecycle where certain seasons did strange things to them; their cyber-biological clock would suddenly  _activate_ and then…oh Primus… ** _CHAOS.  
_** Knowing when the clock would strike ‘activation’ would help control the chaos, and fortunately for a lot of Cybertronians they knew roughly when such a season would occur, so as to hide them from the outside world whilst their primitive drive cooled off this strange phenomenon.  
But there were a few who had no idea when their season would start, nor had they any idea what to do when confronted with its many hurdles and challenges. It was these Cybertronians, the uninformed and uneducated ones, who suffered through these times of the year so painfully.  
  
Destronia and Cybertronia alike were affected by the ever changing climates and weather conditions the seasons held, but only within the Destronia…the Decepticons…were the  ** _real_** challenges that came with seasonal change. But this talk of ‘seasons’ and what they do to a Decepticon sounds so pathetic; what harm could the cold of winter do to a mighty Decepticon?  
You’re a fool if you thought the seasonal afflictions I have been talking about, these last few cycles, had anything to do with the fucking weather. No; the seasonal changes I am talking about involve a far more personal and delicate approach, I thought I would try to inform you of this subject from a direction with which you organics would understand. But perhaps I should just assume you are literate enough to know what the term  _breeding season_ means, and skip ahead right to the consequences such a season has on the Decepticons.  
The consequences of grinding through the season are ‘burnout’, leaving each individual exhausted and unmotivated to do anything, and what you humans call ‘shame’…the shame of succumbing to such primitive instincts.  
  
There are  _four_ different seasons on Earth and within each of those four seasons’ lies a spike period where the Cybertronian body becomes greatly affected; chassis become bulked up, Energon levels deplete slower, Spark beats faster…all senses heighten to unbearable levels, and with the benefits the breeding season you cannot help but assume we would take advantage of such perks to combat the Autobots.  
However, again, you are misinformed; these benefits are brief and highly volatile, used solely for one purpose alone and with the surge of certain chemicals rushing through your veins, a Decepticon struggles to take advantage of them. If you didn’t undergo a specific procedure, or surgery, to diminish those chemicals from your system then you wound up going through the Cybertronian equivalent of hell.  
I was reminded of this the hard way; the ‘season’ came up by surprise on us, and while many of those on-board the Nemesis had taken the correct precautions and treatments to survive the ‘heat wave’ I and a handful of others had not. It was my job as the Decepticon medic to ensure everyone was in tip-top condition to grind through the coming months without hindrance, and while I was very thorough doing my job, I had slipped up…and failed to check on one individual.  
Starscream had several medical checks throughout his stay on Earth, and whilst Megatron was in a state of um…unconsciousness…that slip up happened under Starscreams watch. He was so fixated on his duties as ‘leader’ that he refused medical treatment, and I had forgotten the time-differences between Cybertron Seasons and Earths. Thus, the recipe for disaster was formed. I was careless, he was just foolish.  
  
I had learnt Starscreams habits through my stay on the Nemesis to know where he would be and when, but when the heat wave began I found my thoughts…clouded…I had some interesting information on Megatron’s ‘recovery’ for Starscream to look over, and I would have known the Seeker would have been loitering beside his vulnerable masters corpse if I could have thought straight. But no, my thoughts were addled and jumping around inside my skull like an annoying flesh creature. Instead of going to the medical bay, I instead wandered to the armoury, and found Breakdown pacing back and forth muttering loudly to himself; he too was agitated and looking to vent his frustration, but because of a certain bond that already exists between us, nothing really happened.  
We just remained stationary, staring deeply into one another optics and sharing what little thoughts and emotions we could understand, before both of us decided to venture elsewhere together for answers.  
I didn’t say it to him then, but now that my own thoughts have cleared I will gladly write them down now; Breakdown’s chassis was stunning that day, he was quite literally blossoming with colour, and if it wasn’t for our little bond I would have quite happily trounced him and his frame with my own.  
Breakdown, if you’re unfortunate enough to read this, do feel free to ignore the remainders of this writing. It changes nothing about how I feel towards you or  **him**.  
  
Returning to this strange story, Breakdown and myself did manage to locate Starscream; strutting his stuff like a proud peafowl down the corridors of the ship, blooming with vibrant colours and bodily motions. He was a real show-off, and Breakdown didn’t seem all that impressed by what he saw, but he still decided to tag along and follow my lead.  
I approached our esteemed leader with the information I wanted to deliver to him, but the closer I got to his elegant chassis the more difficult it became to concentrate; words would not leave my mouth, nor would my hand deliver the medical log to his. I remained locked in a trance immediately after our optics met, and under my protective helm I felt my cybernetic crest twitching in interest.  
Starscream demanded I either say my piece or leave, since it seemed I was not quite as alluring as he was, but none the less I couldn’t help myself from ignoring his demands and proceeding with my body’s own desires.  
For you see, although the Decepticon’s as a whole have a specific breeding season, there are two different classes of us…fliers and ground…each has its own unique season, and while Starscream was not affected by the ground-Decepticons heat wave in the same way as myself and Breakdown where, it didn’t mean he was ‘safe’ from it.  
As soon as Starscream turned his back on us, I made a move for him; my circuits buzzing with excitement and lust fuelled my Energon vessels within my crest which forced it to open into its display position, sending my helmet flying from my head. Starscream turned to see what I was doing, only to be rather surprised by my frame leaping up and onto his own.  
The Seeker struggled aggressively under my weight, using his talons to strike out at my chassis with panic swarming in his optics; he was most unfortunate that Breakdown had accompanied me, and was there to provide more assistance within the courtship. Because although Starscream may have been able to ward me off with his claws, he was not capable of breaking loose from both myself and Breakdowns hold on him.  
  
Starscream squirmed harder once I located his port, and quite happily planted my mating rod deep inside it; thrusting with a fiery passion that I had not felt in many decades, with Breakdown quite happily trying to participate in the action as well. But the Seekers port could not hold two rods at the same time, especially one quite as large as Breakdowns, so what else could he do to quench his thirst for intimacy? Why, he used me instead.  
As my rod had now secured itself within Starscreams port Breakdown vacated keeping the Seeker pinned down and moved behind me, slipping his own rod into my tightly clenched port; it was agonising as he forced the first few inches into me, but with the added pleasure I was experiencing thrusting my own rod into Starscreams port, the pain from Breakdowns advances was quite easy to ignore after a while.  
Breakdown, fuelled with lust, pushed my chassis down as he applied all his bodyweight onto me, slamming his pelvis against mine in powerful thrusting motions. The cries from Starscream for me to stop and release him from the humiliating position were unheard, as my thought processes were swarmed with waves of both pain and pleasure; the girth of Breakdowns rod thrusting within my tight little aft burned horribly, but with each push he made into me I found myself being pushed harder and deeper into Starscream.  
And oddly enough, Starscream stopped his whining the more friction we built up together, and seemed to take some form of enjoyment from the experience. But as his port loosened, and the amount of friction I was getting from it decreased, the more pain I was put into by Breakdowns far more dominating advancements.  
Some slither of joy I received from the interfacing was quickly doused once Starscream found an opportunity to escape, as I became entranced in my encounter with Breakdown and submitted to his will. I am quite sure that, if he did not see the opportunity for ‘revenge’ presented before himself, Starscream would have quickly vacated the area and shot me later for it…but no; my body was being held back by Breakdown, my mouth agape crying out as his throbbing rod drilled into me over and over again…Starscream saw his opportunity, and took it.  
He moved towards my face and quickly planted his own rod into my mouth, grasping onto my head and keeping it held in place as he forced every inch of his mating tool down my throat, and began thrusting once I had taken it all. My cries of pain from Breakdowns pounding against my hips were drowned out by my muffled gasps of pleasure from Starscreams rod caressing my throat, and trapped within this blissful moment of ecstasy I was quite happy to take it all; every drop of their fluids, in both my orifices, without complaint.  
  
As soon as Breakdown had released himself into my port, I was relieved to feel his massive rod be removed from my tightly clenched hide and his weight to be removed from my back; he was quite exhausted after that aggressive ‘mating’ session and remained lying on his back across the floor, panting. Starscream on the other hand, continued to encourage me into taking his rod in my mouth and tightly clenched my head as he offloaded his own CNA into my mouth, hissing at me to take every drop like “ _the bitch I am_ ”.  
Once he felt every drop make its way into my mouth, and waited for me to swallow it, he finally removed his rod from my upper orifice but by no means was going to let me go just yet.  
He was quite happy to keep my head where it was with one clawed hand, whilst handling his rod with the other, pressing the tip against my left cheek and he worked himself; my own rod was pulsing in excitement at the spectacle, which I am quite sure was not Starscreams original intention, as when my fluids released they had found the Seekers feet to be their target much to his disgust.  
In some form of retaliation Starscream worked himself faster and harder, grunting in discomfort as he pushed himself to release faster. I was still entranced in a state of bliss, and didn’t so much as bat an optic as he released himself a second time against my face.  
  
I flashed my optics to meet Starscreams as he stopped the working of his rod to regain his breath, and I am quite sure he saw the glimmer of seduction in mine, because he didn’t even strike my face or move away as I made a second move against him.  
I gently grasped his rod and started working it within my hand, my optics not once leaving his own, and it was then that I saw it…something the Seeker had hidden deep within himself…a  _hunger_. A  _passion_.  
I was more than happy to oblige his hunger for a more passionate touch, since I was fuelled with lust and rather dirty thoughts, and once again took the head of Starscreams rod into my mouth and began sucking; my hand still working the exposed shaft of his tool, whilst my mouth did the rest.  
Starscream gasped and tightly clenched my head, his rod throbbing as my tongue and hand caressed him lovingly; he didn’t even need to thrust though I had a feeling he wanted to perform the act, I’m sure. I was doing all the work here like a real ‘dominator’, not him who was happily letting me manipulate his body into satisfying my own needs; his mounting suspense of arousal, accompanied by the exhaustion he soon felt from his release, left him vulnerable into accepting my own loads when he was finished. And might I just add that Starscream is rather ‘quick’ to satisfy.  
  
The third and final release from Starscreams rod splattered across my face and crest, coating me with another dosage of his robonetic ‘funk juice’ and leaving him quite exhausted. I was then ready to make my move on him, and to take further pleasure from the encounter.  
As Starscream stumbled backwards, falling onto his rear panting, I leapt for his chassis and pinned him down against the floor with his head between my legs; my rod, still pulsing in desire, was hungering for some passion itself and was granted the pleasure of entering Starscreams mouth the instant he tried to speak a word of protest.  
With what little energy he had left, Starscream struggled under my weight and tried to pull his head far back enough to remove my rod from his mouth, but I used both of my hands to keep his head firmly in place and began thrusting deeply into his throat. My optics slammed shut, my own mouth agape to release combined sounds of moaning and panting as I worked my rod in and out of the Seekers mouth, until I felt a large hand grasp onto my own head from behind…  
Breakdown felt rather left out it seemed, since he was seeking to take advantage of my current position to once again mount me; his thick rod ramming up my aft with brutal force, edging out a series of cries from my vocals as once again Breakdowns thrusting motions aided in my own thrusts into Starscream. My ball-bearings began to ache as they prepared me for my next release; with the arousal of both my sensitive spots being manipulated worked my bodily functions in overdrive, and as I felt my produce creeping up my shaft for an escape I also felt Starscream squirm his head far back enough to remove my rod from his mouth, only to net himself a facial as a result.  
The Seeker gagged and was quick to remove himself from the scene in shame this time around, leaving Breakdown and myself in the corridor entranced in blissful interfacing; my rod now falling under his mighty hands control and mercy, as he worked my tool for me whilst I took his larger equipment up my tight behind.  
I cried out in pleasure as I felt Breakdown release his cold fluids within my burning port for a second time, lubricating me enough for far less painful interfacing, and he was by no means stopping for a breather that time. He drilled me with force for quite some time on the floor, assisting me with a delicate and satisfying hand job as I took his loads each and every single time he gave me them, and even when the whining Seeker returned to try and pry both of us away from the ecstatic moments we were having together Breakdown flat out refused to give up; several Vehicons who had been given ‘medication’ to block out the heat wave tried pulling Breakdowns chassis from my own, but he clung onto me with desperation and proceeded to pound me harder, and when Starscream tried to make an effort at separating us as well…well…he wound up separating us alright, but received the painful yet still wonderful experience of Breakdowns large rod in his port; I had managed to shake off the trance the interfacing had put me under to put two-and-two together as to what happened whilst Breakdown had his way with Starscream on the floor, and I admit that I hesitated to rush to the medical wing and administer myself with the medication I should have taken as soon as symptoms of the breeding frenzy had shown.  
As soon as I felt the medication take its effect, I grabbed another dosage and rushed back to Breakdown and Starscream before giving my fellow Stunticon his own dosage. Once he regained control of his senses we both were rather quick to hide in the nearest room from Starscream as he recovered from his latest session, and once we felt certain he had gone we returned to the medical wing to clean ourselves of the remains from those lustful moments in order to return to our duties…acting as if the events never even happened.  
  
So…why did I write this all down? Well one reason is so that I never forget when to administer myself with the needed medication, to prevent such an incident happening again…the other?  
To remind Starscream how much of a submissive bitch he is when confronted by two very horny Stunticons…oh and Starscream, I know you will read this eventually…I just thought I would mention that Soundwave caught it all on video, so if you want to keep what little remains of your dignity I would suggest never threatening my paintjob ever again. ;)  
  
I am, after all, your stud of a Decepticon medic! Where would you be without me and my wonderful hands?


End file.
